The Walking Dead: Alone
by NiftyNovels
Summary: Takes place during season 3. Determined to find his cousin in Atlanta, a lone fisherman with hidden talents decides to take matters into his own hands when the National Guard fail to do so. The journey is a long one with many struggles along the way, but Michael will do what ever it takes to find out whether his only remaining family member is dead or alive. Please review :)
1. Chapter 1

**The Walking Dead: Alone**

**Chapter 1**

The morning sun beamed down and glistened across the still ocean. Gentle waves slowly crept up the sandy beach of Miami only to fall back into the ocean.

Other than the sounds of squawking seagulls searching for their next meal; the coast was silent.

The road was empty.

The streets were littered with trash and broken down cars. Some of the buildings stood tall with their windows boarded up, whilst others found themselves  
smashed to bits.

A strange atmosphere overlooked the city of Miami as there seemed to be no sign of life. The city looked to be a ghost town, until a tall man emerged from one of the buildings.

The man was wearing a grey suit with the top few buttons undone and his tie loosened widely. His straw-like hair looked as though it lacked energy, covering  
half of his face. He fixated his gaze to the floor, as he slowly walked around a car that had broken down outside of the building. For some reason he stopped and just stood motionless. The horrifying reality was that the man's right eye hung low from its socket.

The left side of his face was partially torn off, resulting in a gaping hole to the side of his mouth.

Blood stained across the man's face leading towards his mouth. More blood stained below his chin where a large chunk of his neck was missing. This man was no longer living, yet he was walking around. There's a simple explanation for that. He was a walker. Like most of the world he was unfortunate enough to become one of the walking dead.

About forty meters from the beach, a small fishing boat lay still on the glistening ocean. Its grey paint job seemed to be wearing itself away as rust gathered along the outsides.

A large fishing rod rested over the edge of the boat. This seemed meaningless as there was no bait attached to the hook. The carcass of a fish lay upon a plastic dinner plate on top of what looked like an old unfolded table. The hull of the boat looked as though it may fall to pieces at any second.

The pale cabin door gently swung open, and a man appeared from inside.

Michael was one of the lucky ones.

This virus that now plagued the earth hadn't hit him yet, and he intended to keep it that way. The twenty-four year old was just short of six feet and had developed a healthy tan due to living in Miami his entire life.

Being an excellent swimmer Michael had the physique of an athlete suiting for a world like this. His scruffy looking black hair was messed up from a long nights sleep.

His dark stubble indicated that he had not shaved in a while.

Either that, or he just didn't see the point anymore. He wore a jet black t-shirt with the sleeves cut away, shadowy blue jeans with and an old pair of slightly worn down black work boots.

He stepped out onto the deck, and his milky green eyes forced him to look back towards the city that had gone to hell. He gently rubbed his stubble deep in thought, wondering what to do next.

It had been about ten months since the outbreak, and now Michael was clean out of food. He remembered the day he found out about the dead walking the earth.

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Before all of this had started Michael was a fisherman who had lived a simple life, until one day he had returned from a five day fishing trip out at sea to find the world in this state. As soon as he had realized what was going on he had grabbed what supplies he could and headed back out to the ocean, believing it was the safest place.

He wanted to wait for it all to blow over, figuring it would only be a few days before the police or the National Guard took action and sorted things out. He took with him a radio so that he could keep tabs on what was happening. Unfortunately the days he spent waiting turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months.

At first it was broadcast all over the radio warning citizens to stay within their homes and make no contact with anyone, but after a few weeks the broadcasts began to fade until eventually they fell silent.

During this time Michael had to make a few runs back to the mainland to gather what supplies he could find.

This is where Michael witnessed first-hand the horror that had taken over the world he once knew.

It was simple for Michael to gather supplies during his trips back as his house was literally twenty steps away from the beach. He had only come in to contact with a few walkers when he went back but was able to evade them with a level of ease.

His supply runs had been working thus far, but Michael was now faced with the problem of having nothing left.

He had wiped his and his neighbors houses clean of all supplies now and didn't know what to do next. Even though this was a disaster situation Michael was relaxed and seemed unfazed.

That was just his personality.

Cool as ice and tough as nails. He didn't scare easily and took any problems head on. That's what he'd done all of his life and he wasn't going to stop now. He'd given up on the idea of the National Guard saving the day, as it would have been done by now. Heading back to the city seemed to be his only option left at this point.

He hadn't spoken to anybody since everything had started, and he was beginning to wonder if anyone he knew was still alive. Most of his family were already dead before the outbreak had even started, other than his cousin Jaden who lived in Atlanta, Georgia.

Michael and Jaden got on well enough but rarely seen each other as they lived so far apart.

The thought of not knowing whether his cousin was dead or alive was killing him inside, so Michael decided that he was going to take matters into his own hands.

He was tired of sitting around waiting for a miracle that deep down he knew wasn't coming. As he looked towards the city of Miami he thought about the horror that awaited him, but he still made a promise to himself that he would find Jaden no matter what.

Michael walked up to the steering wheel of the boat, and started the engine with a slight smirk on his face as he angled the boat towards the city and then took off in that direction.

As Michael drew closer to the beach, he reached into the top drawer of a stack of shelves and pulled out a black standard semi-automatic handgun, loaded a new magazine into it and tucked it into the back of his jeans.

He had bought the gun for protection a couple of years back, after there had been a few break-ins and robbery's in his neighborhood.

Michael was weapon trained, and had developed a decent shot as he used to practice at the firing range with a few friends, who were probably dead by now.

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He had three spare magazines for the gun, just in case he needed them. He grabbed an old looking backpack from the floor and carefully placed the magazines into it.

Looking around for other things to take on his journey, Michael grabbed the last two bottles of water he had remaining and threw them into the bag. He pulled out a tool kit from underneath the sink and opened it up.

Scanning the inside for things he thought to be useful, Michael decided to take a screwdriver, a hammer, wire cutters, a torch and duct tape. He loaded it all into the bag making sure it wasn't too heavy, and opened up another drawer and took out a small first aid kit. He placed it into a different compartment of the bag and zipped it shut.

The boat was about ten seconds from reaching the beach now, and looking ahead Michael saw that there were no walkers roaming, so he threw the backpack onto his back and prepared himself mentally.

As the boat slowly rolled up the beach until it came to a halt Michael grabbed a penknife from the counter.

He took one last look around making sure he wasn't forgetting anything valuable before placing one hand on the edge of the boat and then vaulting over it onto the dry sand below.

He looked both ways along the beach checking the situation again as he advanced towards the road. Once Michael stepped foot onto the road, he headed in the direction of his house as there was something he needed to pick up.

So far so good he thought to himself. No walkers around, that was a good sign. After a few more steps he reached the front of his house, and wasting no time Michael quietly lifted the garage door up.

A small smile worked its way across his face as he looked towards a powerful black motorcycle.

With the keys in the ignition Michael hoped onto the bike.

He didn't even bother looking at the helmet as he set the gears and clutch for the bike. He then turned the key in the ignition, and the thunderous sound of the engine bursting into life echoed throughout the garage.

Not wanting to stick around, Michael forcefully twisted the throttle and the motorcycle sprung out of the garage. He turned to the right and raced off down the  
road, dodging abandoned cars. Riding down the coast road, Michael wondered how long it would take to reach Atlanta and then he began to wonder if he would even make it that far, but quickly withdrew that thought before he let any form of fear get to him.

.

Thanks for reading, Chapter 2 is coming soon!

Leave a review? Any feedback is greatly appreciated.

It also helps me when writing the next chapters...xx


	2. Chapter 2

_**Please read Chapter 1 if you haven't already! **_

**Chapter 2**

It didn't take long for the fuel meter on Michael's bike to hit the warning zone. The sun was beginning to set, and nightfall would soon be upon him.

Luckily for Michael, he could see a small gas station just up the road. Once he had reached the station he slowly moved the bike up to the nearest the pump and came to a halt.

Michael turned the key in the ignition switching the bike off, and he quickly hopped off of it. He propped the bike up against the fuel pump and looked around completing a 360 turn. Once he was sure there were no walkers about Michael attempted to fill the bike up with fuel.

Just as he had expected there was no fuel in the pump. He checked the others but it was no use as every last drop had been taken. Michael did a full sweep of the outside of the station looking for walkers and fuel, but there was nothing.

That was good news, and bad news for him all in one.

He removed the handgun from the back of his jeans and aimed it towards the door of the building. Slowly moving forwards his eyes scanned the windows for any signs of walkers inside, but it was safe enough to enter from what he saw.

Still, Michael didn't lower his weapon as his slowly opened the door with his free hand. Taking caution, he looked around as he entered the building. All of the shelves were empty, papers lay all over the place and there was a dead walker lying behind a vending machine. Michael double checked that it was dead by forcefully kicking it in the head, but it lay motionless.

He moved up and down checking every inch of the building making sure that he knew that it was safe. He lowered his gun but kept it in one hand just in case he needed it. The place had been ransacked for almost all it had, but Michael managed to scavenge two bars of chocolate and a small tin of beans.  
There were two gas cans behind the counter but unfortunately they were both empty.

Michael gazed out of the window and realised that the sun had completely set now. He decided that he would spend the night in the gas station and figure out a plan in the morning.

Michael found the keys to front door behind the counter and locked himself in the building for the night. Using his backpack as an uncomfortable pillow; he lay down behind the counter and placed his gun on a lower shelf underneath the cash register.

As the night sky grew darker, Michael slowly drifted off to sleep thinking about the safety of his cousin Jaden.

Michael awoke the next morning to the horrible sound of something scratching on the door of the gas station. He sprang up into a sitting position, and quickly grabbed his gun from the lower shelf. Switching to a crouching position; Michael propped himself against the wall just beneath the window shielding himself from sight.

As the scratching sound got louder he assessed his situation. He could either sit and wait it out, or he could take an approach more suited to his personality and tackle the problem head on.

Making his mind up within an instant he slowly began moving along the wall.

Michaels grip around the gun tightened as he prepared to fire at whatever was scratching on the outside. Close enough to the door now Michael gently rested his finger on the trigger. At this point his heart was pounding as he wondered how many of them there would be once he popped his head up. The fear almost got to him until he remembered why he was doing this; he needed to find Jaden no matter what.

Pushing the fear to the back of his mind he swiftly leapt up into plain sight and aimed his gun at the door.

Standing behind the door was a small German Sheppard. Michael rolled his eyes, letting out a sigh as he tucked his gun into the back of his jeans.

He grabbed the keys from the counter and unlocked the door as the dog came bursting through the door running around excitably. Although he was energetic, strangely enough the dog was not barking as if he knew that it would attract walkers.

"Come here boy" Michael said softly as the dog came running up to him. Michael knelt down and stroked the dog wondering what it was doing here. It must have been abandoned or its family was killed Michael thought.

"Well, as long as you're quiet, you can stay with me" Michael told the dog. He stood up and thought about what he was going to do next. As he walked out of the front door, the dog followed his every step. There was a small car crashed head first into a wall next to the station.  
The car was in too bad of a state to drive, but Michael had an idea. He remembered that there was a small hosepipe around the back of the station.

Grabbing the penknife from his pocket, Michael headed around to the hosepipe as his new companion followed. He knelt down next to the hose pipe and used his penknife to cut about a meter off of it.

He also cut away the nozzle as took the pipe back to the broken down car. Michael grabbed one of the empty gas cans from inside the store, and set it down next to the car. He opened up the lid to the fuel tank located on the car, and stuck one end of the pipe into it.

He then used his mouth to suck the fuel from the car, pinching the pipe before the fuel reached his mouth. Michael then emptied the contents of the hosepipe into the gas can and repeated this step until the car was sucked dry. Using this useful technique, Michael was able to scavenge an entire tank full of fuel for his motorcycle. As he emptied the can of fuel into his bike, Michael wondered how many times he would have to do this to make it to Atlanta.

The German Sheppard's ears pricked up, as it sat up from its prone position looking into the distance. Michael focused his attention on the dog.

"What is it?" he asked cautiously. Suddenly the dog let out a high pitched whimper, and darted off down a back alley. Michael looked around vigilantly for a walker that may have spooked the dog, but couldn't see anything. He walked out into the middle of the road and looked to his right, but there was nothing.

Looking to his left, down the road that he had come from, what Michael saw made him drop the empty can to the ground and take a few steps back.

"Jesus..." The terrifying sight ahead of him was a herd of about sixty walkers making their way towards him at a decent pace. Michael stared in shock for a split second, and then snapped out of it instantly. He made a break for the station, estimating it would take the walkers roughly twenty seconds to reach him.

Shouldering the door open, Michael swiftly gathered all of his belongs from inside the store and threw them into his backpack as the hideous groans from walkers got louder and louder. He then quickly heaved the bag over his shoulders, and darted back outside to his bike.

At this point the walkers were dangerously close at the edge of the station, and they had spotted Michael. He sprinted to his bike and slapped the fuel lid shut, followed by a swift jump onto the bike. Praying that there was no problem with the fuel or the bike, Michael turned the key in the ignition. Miraculously, the bike burst into life as the engine roared throughout the station.

With walkers literally right behind him, that was Michaels cue to get the hell out of there. As he twisted the throttle, Michael felt a walkers hand brush against his backpack, but the bike shot off out of the station and onto the road just in time.

Getting a good forty yards on the walkers, Michael turned his head looking back at the carnage that he had just so narrowly escaped. That was way too close for comfort he thought.

Michael rode all day, until the darkness of night began to creep up on him again. Finding a pretty safe looking neighborhood Michael decided to hunker down for the night in a small house that he had broken into and secured.

He found a map located in a drawer inside the house. After reading the map for some time, Michael came to the conclusion that he had traveled most of the way already and he should be hitting Atlanta within a few hours of riding in the morning.  
Placing the map into his backpack, Michael lay down and relaxed on a couch after the long day that he had had where he slowly drifted off to sleep.

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The next day, Michael awoke in a much more peaceful mood than the previous morning. He stood up and looked out of the window to see nothing out of the ordinary; however it did look much colder outside. Although he felt bad for taking it, Michael grabbed a shady, black, denim hooded jacket that was hanging up next to the front door.

Coincidentally the jacket was a perfect fit.

Wasting no time he threw the backpack on over the jacket, headed out of the door, and was on the road riding in no time.  
With each passing sign post Michael grew closer and closer to Atlanta.

The road had been fairly quiet, although he had passed a few walkers on his way.

After an hour or so, he stopped briefly to stretch his legs and get something to eat. Michael took out the map from his backpack, and figured out that he would only have to ride for another hour before he would reach Atlanta.

With this information he jumped straight back onto the bike and set off for his destination.

It took him a few days, but Michael had finally reached Atlanta, Georgia. As he rode towards the tall buildings Michael noticed that the side of the road leading out of the city was littered with broken down cars.

Jaden's house was located dead in the centre of the city.

Michael knew that he had to be cautious when approaching as he had no idea what the walker situation was like in Atlanta. Before the broadcasts had stopped; Michael had heard on his radio months ago that Atlanta may be a safe zone.

He could only hope.

Michael took a deep breath as he rode head first into a city that, for all he knew, could be overrun with walkers.

He didn't care.

He just had to find his cousin and get to somewhere safe. His only remaining goal after that would be to survive.

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Thanks for reading, Chapter 3 coming soon!

If you're still reading then that's great! I'm gonna pick up the pace a bit from now on so expect better chapters from here!

Leave a review? Any feedback is greatly appreciated..xx


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